All the Small Things
by Cke1st
Summary: Very small gold coins can have enormous value, depending on what you buy with them. Very small dragons can cause enormous problems, even if they're very, very cute. Hiccup suddenly has to deal with both. Rated K-plus to be safe; the language is all K.
1. Chapter 1

**All The Small Things** Chapter 1

 _A/N  
Very small gold coins can have enormous value, depending on what you buy with them. Very small dragons can cause enormous problems, even if they're very, very cute. Hiccup suddenly has to deal with both. __This story takes place in the "Riders of Berk" time frame. Rated K-plus to be safe; the language is all K._

 **o**

"Hiccup? I, umm... I need your help."

It was unusual for Astrid to ask anyone for help, ever. She made a point of being as self-reliant as possible. Even if she found herself in a situation that she clearly couldn't handle alone, asking for aid felt like an admission of failure somehow. That meant she almost never looked for assistance, and if she did, it was never for something trivial.

Hiccup set down the awl he was using to engrave some fancy artwork into the blade of the sword he was forging. "What's going on?"

Astrid slipped into the forge, as though she was afraid someone might see her there and figure out that she was asking Hiccup for help. "I was throwing my axe in the woods, like I usually do. I had to pick some new trees to throw it at, because I'd almost chopped the old ones down with axe strikes. Anyway, I missed somehow, my axe flew into some thick undergrowth, and..." She took a deep breath. "I can't find it."

Hiccup looked puzzled. "Can't Stormfly help you find it? She's got a great nose; she should be able to sniff it out for you."

She shrugged. "Like I said, it's really thick undergrowth. She can't fit herself in there. We tried; she's sure it's in that thicket somewhere, but she can't get close enough to track it down. It will be dark in a few hours, and if I leave my favorite axe in the woods overnight, it'll get rusty. I might not even be able to find it again if it stays out there too long. Will you help me find my axe?" She took another deep breath. "Please?"

Hiccup smiled. "Anything for you, fair lady! This is a good time for me to take a break anyway. Gobber isn't here, so I can't ask if it's okay to quit early, but I'll make it up to him tomorrow if he doesn't like it." He shrugged off his heavy leather apron and hung it on its peg in the wall, and followed close behind her as she led him into the forest that covered the northern half of the island. The shadows were lengthening as they approached the thicket where Astrid had lost her axe.

Hiccup stopped short. "Whoa! Astrid, you didn't say anything about thorn bushes! Those thorns look nasty."

She glared at him. "If finding it was easy, I could have done it myself!"

"If you'd told me there were thorns, I could have brought my leather apron and gauntlets from the forge! But I see what you mean when you say Stormfly can't fit in there. Those saplings are growing so close together, they look like a man-made hedge. It's a good thing I'm thin."

She smiled mischievously. "Why do you think I came to _you_ for help?"

Hiccup looked from side to side and found a gap in the briars. He got about three feet before he had to turn aside, then turned in the other direction. "Never mind about – OW! ...about finding your axe," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be – OW! I'll be lucky to find my own way out of here!"

"Can you see my axe yet?" she asked.

"You know, you could follow me in and help me look," he called back. "Two sets of eyes are better than one, and your leather skirt ought to protect you from the thorns."

"My skirt doesn't cover all of me!" she retorted. "Why should I risk getting all scratched up?"

"Uhh... because it's your axe, not mine?"

"Hiccup..." She began to lose her cool, then stopped. "Oh, all right." She followed his path, and while the thorns snagged her wool top a few times, she didn't get scratched up nearly as badly as Hiccup did.

"I see something," he suddenly exclaimed. They were only ten feet apart, but the undergrowth was so thick, she could barely see him.

"Is it my axe?" she asked hopefully.

"No, it's some kind of huge bug that's caught in a spider's web," he answered. "I never saw a bug that big before."

"Hiccup, we aren't here to look at bugs!" she burst out. "Look for my axe before we lose the daylight!"

"Oh, all right," he muttered. "Still, I feel bad for the bug. It's too big for any spider to eat, so it's just going to hang there until it..." She heard him catch his breath. "Oh... my... gosh. Astrid, get over here! Quick!"

Something in his tone of voice said this was more important than just an interesting bug. She went as quickly as she could, ignoring the occasional thorn prick, until she was standing next to him.

Dangling from a ruined spiderweb in front of them was the smallest dragon she had ever seen.

Even a newly-hatched Terrible Terror was bigger than this tiny creature. Its body was about the size of her thumb, and its neck and tail were each as long as her pinky finger. It was brown, with green belly scales and rows of dark-brown spots on its legs, back, and horns. Its wings were a darker green and delicately veined; they looked exactly like the leaves of a tree. Its forehead ridge and tail spines also looked like leaves. Its eyes were large, considering the size of its head, and they were bright and expressive. It was still alive, but it was clearly weak from struggling against the web fibers that had entangled it.

"I've never seen anything like it," Hiccup said softly.

"I'm not surprised," she nodded. "Being so tiny, and with that kind of natural camouflage, you could be looking right at it and not see it, especially if it lives in this thicket where no one has ever gone before. Is it a baby?"

"It's hard to tell," he said with a shake of his head, "but its proportions make me think it's full-grown." He reached toward it with a finger; the tiny dragon snapped weakly at him. "Hey, take it easy, little guy! I'm trying to help!" He brought his open palm up underneath the dragon until it was lying in his hand. It stopped struggling and rolled over on its side.

"It must be exhausted," Astrid observed.

"I've seen a dragon in that position once before," Hiccup said softly. "That's how I found Toothless, when he was tied up and helpless and he thought I was about to kill him. This poor guy must be thinking the same thing. Luckily for him, he's just as mistaken as Toothless was." Slowly and carefully, he stretched and pulled the strands of spiderweb that held the little dragon, first freeing its wings, then its legs. The tiny reptile rolled right-side-up, fanned its wings, blinked its eyes, and cheeped at him.

"Fly home, little guy," Hiccup urged it. "You're free now." But the miniature dragon seemed content, nay, _determined_ to stay in the palm of his hand. He tipped it; he blew on it; he spread his fingers apart; but the dragon clung to one of his fingers with all four legs and showed no interest in going anywhere else.

"I think you've made a new friend, like it or not," Astrid commented. "He sure is cute. The girly-girls in the tribe are going to go crazy when they see him."

"I never trained a dragon this way before," he nodded. "I'll have to tell Fishlegs about – _Fishlegs!_ Can you imagine what he's going to say when he sees this tiny little beauty?"

"He is going to completely geek out," she decided. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing in the Book of Dragons about dragons like this. We've found something totally new!" She paused. "Speaking of finding things, do you think we can keep trying to find my axe? It's starting to get dark."

"It's going to be a challenge with this guy in my hand," Hiccup said absently. "Hey, little fellow! Maybe you'll ride on my shoulder instead?" He tried to encourage the miniature dragon to walk off his hand and onto his shoulder. The dragon didn't budge. It blinked expressively and squeaked.

"He might not be as big as other dragons, but he's just as stubborn as any of them," Hiccup said resignedly. "Okay, let's start looking." Pushing vines and branches aside with only one hand was hard; he made slow going. After a few minutes, Astrid grew impatient and found her own path through the undergrowth. It was getting dark, and they were on the verge of giving up for the night, when Hiccup suddenly exclaimed, "Here it is!" He couldn't untangle it from the thorns and vines with just one hand, so he stepped aside and let Astrid work it free.

"Thank you for helping me, Hiccup," she smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed, then glanced down at the dragon to see it had any reaction to her kiss. Dragons could be possessive; if this one was thinking of Hiccup as its personal property, it might not appreciate Astrid's affection toward him. But it was cleaning its right wing with a hindclaw and paid them no attention. They made their way home, and got to the Mead Hall just as the sun was setting.

Toothless was waiting outside the door, watching for his human friend. Hiccup ran up to him and held out his hand with the little dragon. "Hey, bud! What do you think of this?"

The Night Fury glared at the mini-dragon and sniffed it, being careful not to inhale it. Then he snorted vigorously; it looked like he meant to blow the creature away. The dragon clung to Hiccup's finger, folded its wings back, and hissed at the much bigger dragon.

"Toothless, go easy!" Hiccup admonished him. "He's no threat! Look how small he is!" Toothless was unconvinced. He growled deep in his throat.

"Is he trying to tell you something?" Astrid asked.

"Maybe," Hiccup shrugged. "I remember when he tried to warn me about the baby Typhoomerang, and I didn't listen. It turned out he was right; that baby was bad news. But this little guy... how could he possibly pose us any danger? I think Toothless is just being jealous." He turned back to the Night Fury. "Relax, bud. I can't ride this guy, or do much of anything with him. You're still my number-one friend, and that's never going to change." Toothless grunted and snorted at the little dragon again. The little one backed away until its tail went up Hiccup's sleeve, but made no attempt to flee.

"Well, as long as you aren't actually trying to kill each other, I guess I'll accept that." Hiccup held the Mead Hall door open for Astrid with his free hand.

Inside, the evening meal was in full swing. No one paid the pair any attention as they walked inside. But as they took their fish platters, the Mead Hall worker who served them saw the tiny dragon in Hiccup's hand. "What is that?" she asked, curious. The dragon faced her and blinked. "Whatever it is, it sure is cute!" she exclaimed. That got the attention of all the young people and most of the women in the Hall, so the men had to see what all the commotion was about. The evening meal was quickly forgotten as everyone crowded around Hiccup.

"Oh, it's adorable!"

"That's the cutest thing I've ever seen!"

"Look at how bright its little eyes are!"

"Where did you find it?"

"We found it deep in the forest," Hiccup explained, "in a place where people probably never went before. I set it free from a spider's web, and now it's kind of bonded to me."

"Can I have it?" a little girl asked.

"I don't think it will go to you," he replied. "It really likes me. Besides, people don't own dragons, so it isn't mine to give away."

"It's not a real dragon," the girl's mother commented. "Is it?"

"It may be very small, but I think it's a real dragon," Hiccup countered. He noticed Fishlegs making his way through the crowd and added, "But let's ask the expert."

Fishlegs took one look at the little dragon and gasped in wide-eyed delight. He bent down to look at it up close, with a huge smile on his face; the dragon cheeped at him. "Hiccup... tell me everything about it. I mean everything!"

Hiccup related the story of how he and Astrid had found the miniature dragon deep in the forest and rescued it. Astrid added a few details as Fishlegs listened rapturously.

"Do you think he'd sit on my hand?" Fishlegs asked hopefully.

"He's kind of glued to me," Hiccup said, "but you're welcome to try. I almost hope he does go to you. My hand is getting tired from holding it in the same position for hours." Fishlegs held his hammy hand right next to Hiccup's. The miniature dragon sniffed him, sniffed again, looked up at Hiccup, then sauntered over to Fishlegs' palm. He curled up and watched the humans lazily, the picture of complete unconcern. Hiccup shook his hand and wiggled his fingers, grateful to have both his hands free again.

"I guess he thinks you're good enough," Hiccup said casually.

"What are you going to do with him?" Astrid wondered.

"I'm going to take him home and find out everything I can about him," Fishlegs answered without taking his eyes off his tiny passenger. "I'm going to write it all down in the Book of Dragons. I'll finally have a page that's all my own, without owing anything to Bork the Bold! Thank you, Hiccup. You've made me very, very happy."

"You might not want to get too happy too quickly," Hiccup cautioned him. "Toothless acted really jealous when he met this guy. Meatlug might react the same way."

"You could have a dragon fight on your hands," Astrid added.

Tuffnut added, "Hey, if they fight, can we watch?"

"I don't think Meatlug would fight anybody," Fishlegs decided. "She's a lover, not a fighter. This little guy doesn't look like a fighter, either. We'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, I've got some serious research to do!" He picked up his half-eaten supper plate with his free hand and nearly ran out the door.

"He's taking that little dragon back to his house," Astrid noticed. "If the mini-dragon and Meatlug do get into a fight in his bedroom, they could do a lot of damage. Maybe even burn his house down."

"He's a pretty good judge of dragons," Hiccup said offhandedly. "If he says they won't fight, then they probably won't fight. Maybe we were worrying over nothing."

 **o**

 _A/N_  
 _The tiny dragons in this story are patterned after this sculpture, which I found on deviantart dot com. Thank you to "dragonsandbeasties" for the inspiration, and for your beautiful ideas and artwork:_

www dot deviantart dot com slash art slash Leaf-Dragons-396764240


	2. Chapter 2

**All The Small Things** Chapter 2

The tiny brown-and-green dragon lay on Fishlegs' nightstand, watching unconcerned as he sketched it (very roughly – Fishlegs wasn't much of an artist), measured it, observed it from all possible angles, compared its colors to the hues of familiar objects, and wrote it all down. As for Fishlegs, he was nearly hyperventilating with excitement. He was always fascinated at the discovery of a new dragon type, and this one had practically appeared on his front doorstep! It was also much smaller than any known dragon, and it was unbearably cute, too. He was working as quickly as possible, just in case the miniature dragon decided to fly away.

Flying away wouldn't be easy because Fishlegs had closed his bedroom door and shut the window. That kept Meatlug from flying out the window, but she was sound asleep and didn't complain. He had also inadvertently trapped a hornet inside his room when he shut the window, but the hornet was flying around the ceiling and, aside from its irritating buzz, it wasn't bothering him. His attention was entirely on the dragon.

"Okay, little fellow," he said out loud. "Now let's see how you eat." He picked off a small bit of fish from his supper platter and dropped it in front of the tiny dragon. It sniffed at the fish, cheeped at him twice, and turned away.

"Don't you like that kind of fish?" he wondered. "It's cod! I thought every dragon liked codfish! I never met a dragon who was a picky eater before. Well, let's see... where can I get some different kinds of fish?" He was still pondering when the hornet swooped down toward him and made him duck. Before he could try anything else, the little dragon took wing with a soft buzzing, fluttering sound. It intercepted the hornet in mid-air; there was a popping sound, a puff of smoke, and the insect fell lifeless to the floor. The dragon spiraled down, landed next to the dead hornet, and devoured it with audible crunching sounds. Then it flew back to its perch on Fishlegs' nightstand and began grooming itself.

"Oh...so you eat bugs?" Fishlegs asked it. "Well, that explains a few things, like why you didn't eat the fish, and how you get food if you live in the middle of the forest. Maybe that's how you got caught in that spiderweb – you saw a bug and lunged at it before you saw that it was stuck in the web. But how did you shoot this bug down? I didn't see you breathe any fire. Now you've got me curious!" He looked around to see if there were any more insects in his room, but saw none.

"Well, if I can't figure that one out, then I guess the next thing I should do is weigh you," he decided. He pulled out the balance scale that he usually used for weighing the eggs that the family chickens laid. He held one of the pans next to his night stand and coaxed the dragon to stand on it. It walked onto the pan willingly, but didn't lie down or relax, but stared up at him curiously. He set down the scale and pulled out the bag of silver and copper coins that he used as counterweights. He didn't have a lot of money, but he wasn't saving up for anything in particular, so that was okay. He started with his heaviest silver coin and laid it in the other pan of the scale. It wasn't enough; he'd need at least one more coin to match the little dragon's weight. He reached into his bag –

...and, with an excited squeak, the little dragon pounced on the coin.

The silver was twice as big around as the dragon's head, but the little creature was undeterred, although it was clearly startled when the pan of the scale hit bottom when the dragon landed on it. It picked up the coin in its mouth, fluttered awkwardly back to the nightstand, and nearly crash-landed from the weight of the silver. It set its prize down and sat on it, somehow looking very smug.

"Hey! Give that back!" Fishlegs exclaimed as he reached for it. "It took me almost a year to earn – **OW!"** The moment he touched the dragon and the coin, there was a quick flash and a popping sound, and the young man felt like he'd been struck by lightning. All his hairs were standing on end, his eyesight went blurry for a moment, his fingertip was red and sore, and he felt weak and tingly all over.

He fell down on his knees so he wouldn't fall headlong, and stared at the dragon. It glared back at him. "What did you do to me?" he demanded. The dragon just flicked its tongue at him, so he tried to think. "Is that what you did to the hornet? For a small dragon, you've got some real power!" He hesitantly reached for the coin again. The dragon growled and took the silver in its mouth. This time, there was no pop and no pain when Fishlegs touched the coin. He tried to take it back; the dragon clung to it, dug its claws into the wood of his nightstand, and lashed its tail angrily.

After playing tug-of-war for a few seconds, Fishlegs began to feel like a bully. Was he really going to take a coin away from a creature smaller than his own hand? Well, yes; after all, it was _his_ coin. But the dragon didn't see it that way, and if there was one thing Fishlegs had learned from his friendship with Meatlug, it was that it's no use arguing with a dragon.

"Fine, you win," he sighed, and stopped pulling. "At least I know that your power has a shot limit. But how am I supposed to weigh you if you won't let go of the coin? That silver weighs almost as much as you do!" The little dragon relaxed slightly, but it didn't put down the coin and it didn't stop glaring at him. "Maybe I can take it back when you fall asleep. In the meantime, I guess I'll find some bugs for you to eat. It's dark out, so the bugs will come to my lantern. Feeding you might be the easiest part of this arrangement." He slipped out the door quickly before the miniature dragon could follow him, grabbed a lantern and a clay plate, and stepped outside. Fifteen minutes later, he returned with the plate half-covered with moths, beetles, and other insects that he'd slapped down and stunned when they flew around his lantern.

He set the plate on the floor where the dragon could see it. His tiny companion dove onto the plate and began devouring its contents. But the moment Fishlegs made a move toward the nightstand and the silver coin, it dropped whatever it was eating and flew back to protect its stolen treasure. After three failed attempts, Fishlegs gave up. He sat on the floor and watched the dragon finish off its meal, writing down notes from time to time. When the little dragon was done eating, it flew back to the nightstand, curled up around its coin, and fell asleep.

"Nope, I can't take my coin back while you're asleep," Fishlegs sighed. "I never heard of a dragon who liked money before. Maybe the Book of Dragons can tell me something." He slid his copy of the Book out from underneath his bed and began leafing through it. In the section called "Legendary Dragons," he found a reference to huge red flame-breathers who loved gold and other shiny objects so much that they would kill for them. But no one living could swear that he'd ever seen such a dragon, and of course, there was no mention of tiny dragons, money-loving or otherwise. Fishlegs gave up, put out his lantern, and went to bed.

He woke up the next morning to the usual sensation of Meatlug licking his feet. He had no idea what that meant to a dragon, but it made his Gronckle happy, so he didn't protest. The nano-dragon was still asleep on his nightstand, curled tightly around the silver coin it had stolen from him. As he got out of bed, it awoke and watched him warily. Fishlegs faced a dilemma; he had to open the window so Meatlug could get out, but he feared that, as soon as he opened it, the nano-dragon would escape.

"I'm guessing that you won't fly away," he thought out loud, "because that would mean leaving your 'precious' behind, and I think you won't do that." He opened the window. Meatlug buzzed out and made a beeline for the nearest feeding tray; she was hungry this morning. The tiny dragon watched the much bigger dragon leave, picked up the coin in its mouth, and flapped unsteadily toward the window. Fishlegs tried to block its way, but the leaf-dragon's heavy load didn't stop it from dodging his efforts, slipping out the window, and heading north toward its forest home.

"So I guessed wrong," Fishlegs called sadly, and waved to it. "Bye, little fellow. It was nice meeting you. Whatever you spend my money on, I hope it's worth it." He did his morning chores, repeatedly looking up to see if the leaf dragon had returned, then went to the Mead Hall for breakfast.

After breakfast, Stoick pulled Hiccup aside. "Over the next few days, when you and your friends are out riding on your dragons, keep your eyes open for a ship whose side-shields have an emblem of a crossed black sword and axe on a red background. If you see it, let me know _immediately._ I'm expecting them."

"Those are the Wild Men of the North, right, Dad?"

"Yes, it's time for their annual trading visit, and they don't like to be kept waiting."

"I'll tell you if I see them." Hiccup hurried toward the training ring, where the other dragon riders were waiting for him. He brought the others up to speed on what he and Astrid had found yesterday. Snotlout wasn't impressed.

"You can discover all the wimpy little sissy dragons you want, and I won't mind. Just don't discover anything more awesome than a Monstrous Nightmare, okay?"

Hiccup smiled as he glanced toward Toothless, who was napping near the doorway. "You mean, aside from the totally awesome dragon I already discovered, right?" Snotlout was trying to come up with a suitable comeback when Fishlegs took over the conversation.

"Aside from a bunch of numbers that Snotlout doesn't want to hear, here's what I've learned about these nano-dragons."

"Nanny dragons?" Tuff queried him. "Are you saying they're like goats?"

"No, nano-dragons," Fishlegs corrected her. " 'Nano' means 'very small.' Anyway, we know that they're weak flyers, they eat bugs instead of fish, and if you touch them and they don't like it, they have an electric power that can knock you off your feet."

"Huh," Hiccup commented. "That little guy sat in my hand for an hour or more and he didn't shock me."

"I guess he likes you," Astrid replied.

"Oh, yeah, that's the other thing we know about them," Fishlegs continued. "They like money, or silver, or anything shiny, I'm not sure which. I tried to use my big silver coin as a weight in my balance, and the dragon stole it. When I tried to take it back, that's when he hit me with some high voltage."

"A dragon attacked Fishlegs?" Tuffnut scoffed. "I am shocked – _shocked!"_

"No, Fishlegs was," Ruff corrected him with a half-hidden snort.

"I'm sorry, Fishlegs," Astrid said solicitously. "I know how hard you worked to earn that coin, and I remember how happy you were when you finally got it. Are you going to get it back?"

"That might be hard," Fishlegs answered. "The nano-dragon got away. He and my coin are somewhere in the forest. Finding him is going to be almost impossible with his natural camouflage, and even if we do find him, I can't think of a way to take my coin back without getting electrocuted."

"Electro-cuted," Snotlout mused. "That's a good word for them. They're electric and they're cute."

"There has to be a way," Hiccup decided. "We know pretty much where these nano-dragons live, and now that we know what they look like, we might be able to find them again. But I never heard of a dragon that loved silver before. All the dragons I've ever met love fish and neck-scratches. They've never paid any attention to money or other shiny things."

"Well, this one does, and he stole my biggest coin," Fishlegs said. "At least, I think it was a 'he.' It's hard to tell when they're that small."

"It's hard for _you_ to tell, no matter how big they are!" Ruff teased him. "We all remember when you thought Meatlug was a boy!" Tuff and Snotlout snickered at the memory.

"Funny, I don't remember any of you telling him differently," Astrid said cuttingly.

"Anyway," Hiccup said loudly to cut off the argument that was about to start, "there's one other thing we know about them. Toothless doesn't seem to want them around."

"Who cares what your dragon thinks?" Snotlout scoffed.

"He's a pretty good judge of dragons," Hiccup retorted. "He was right about the baby Typhoomerang, wasn't he? Maybe there's something about that nano-dragon that would really be bad news. Maybe we should be glad that he stole Fishlegs' coin and left. That might be better than if he stayed around and did something really bad."

"Hey, that's a 'first' for the Book of Dragons!" Tuffnut said mockingly. "Fishlegs bribed a dragon to leave the village alone!"

"Uhh, that's not quite how it happened," Fishlegs protested. "It was more larceny than bribery."

Astrid was unconvinced. "We still don't know for sure if that dragon was bad news, or if Toothless was just jealous because you were holding another dragon, right?" She got no response. "Hiccup?"

Hiccup wasn't paying attention. He had cupped his ear toward the north. "I think we're about to get another chance to answer some of these questions."

A few seconds later, two leafy nano-dragons appeared over the training ring.


	3. Chapter 3

**All The Small Things** Chapter 3

"Oh, my gosh! _Two_ nano-dragons!" Fishlegs was geeking out again. "Maybe they're a mated pair! Can you imagine how tiny their babies will be?"

The two tiny dragons landed on the bars that covered the edge of the training ring and looked down on the six teens who were gaping up at them. One of the nano-dragons clutched a big silver coin in its teeth.

"That one must be your friend," Hiccup commented.

"I thought he was _your_ friend," Fishlegs countered. "He never shocked you or stole your money, right? He didn't treat _me_ like a friend."

"But you fed him, and he liked that, right?" Astrid offered. "Maybe they're back for more bugs to eat?"

Hiccup shook his head. "I'm sure they can find all the bugs they want in the forest. I think they're here because the other one wants a shiny object like her partner has."

"I like making dragons happy as much as the next man," Fishlegs replied, "but I'm not exactly made out of money. I can't afford to give away any more."

"Huh." Hiccup looked thoughtful. "I wonder if there's a way..." His voice trailed off. He realized that all the others were staring at him. "What?"

"You're the son of the tribe's chief!" Ruff reminded him. "You're family is rich! If anyone has money to give away, it's you."

"I'm not exactly made out of money, either!" he exclaimed. "My dad has some, but I'm not that much better off than any of you. Why should I give my coins away to a greedy little dragon?"

"Think of it as a scientific experiment," Fishlegs suggested. "We can expand our knowledge of dragons. That's what the Dragon Training Academy is all about, right?"

"Or think of it as being fair to Fishlegs," Astrid offered. "After all, he gave them one of his coins, so shouldn't you do it, too? After all, you're our leader, and leaders are supposed to set a good example, right?"

"Besides, better you than me!" Tuffnut concluded.

As he thought it over, the nano-dragon without the coin drifted down and settled on his left shoulder. It cheeped at him, blinked twice, and fluttered its tiny wings. He sighed in resignation.

"Fine. You win, little one," he mumbled. "You're way too cute for your own good." He walked back to his house with one nano-dragon on his shoulder, the other nano-dragon fluttering around his head, and the other five teens following him. He found Toothless asleep beside his house; the Night Fury stirred restlessly as he eased the door open and crept upstairs to his room. The nano-dragon with the coin in its mouth followed him up and landed on his nightstand. The one without the coin joined her partner, peeping insistently.

"Don't get greedy, little one." Hiccup retrieved his little box of coins from under his bed. It rattled as he set it on the bed and opened the lid. "There isn't much here," he sighed. "I hate giving it away, even if it does make a dragon happy. Fishlegs said this should be a scientific experiment, but how? Hmmm... okay, let's try this." He picked up a large copper coin, a medium-sized silver one, and a small gold one, and set them down in front of the tiny dragons. "Which one do you like best?"

Without hesitation, the dragon that had no coin pounced on the gold one and carried it off. A moment later, the other dragon dropped the big silver coin it was carrying, siezed the medium-sized one, and followed its mate out the window. Hiccup shrugged, put the copper coin back in his box, hid the box again, and walked downstairs. The other teens were clustered around the door.

"Well?" Astrid asked.

"They like gold better than silver or copper," Hiccup answered. "They seem to like coins that are easy to carry; 'bigger is better' isn't their rule. The first one made change from my money box; he left Fishlegs' coin and took a smaller one of mine instead."

"Maybe they like money from you better than they like money from Fishlegs," Astrid suggested.

"I don't know; I guess it's possible. Anyway, he left this one behind. Here you go." He flipped the big silver coin to Fishlegs, who was so surprised that he nearly dropped it.

"Thanks, Hiccup!" he exclaimed. "I thought I'd never see this money again." He examined it closely.

"Do you think the nanny-dragons switched your coin for a fake?" Tuff demanded.

"No, I'm just checking for tooth marks," Fishlegs replied. "All I can see is dragon spit. I guess they're really gentle with the stuff they value the most."

That was when Ruff glanced over her shoulder and tensed up. "Here comes the chief! We must be in trouble for something!"

Tuff nodded. "If he found out about the noodle incident, then we're dead! Run for it!" The twins ran away in opposite directions as Stoick approached the group.

Snotlout turned to Astrid, mystified. "What are those two so paranoid about? Didn't they expect the chief to walk toward his own house?"

"They have guilty consciences, I guess," she shrugged.

"What's going on here?" the chief rumbled.

"We were just doing an experiment on some very small dragons we discovered yesterday," Hiccup explained. "They seem to like money."

"This is a bad time to talk to me about money," the chief sighed. "Hiccup, can we talk alone for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Dad." Fishlegs, Astrid, and Snotlout quickly found things to do elsewhere in the village. Stoick closed the door and sat down on a bench near the fire; Hiccup sat across from him and poked up the fire a bit.

"What's on your mind, Dad?"

"You know about the trading ship from the Wild Men of the North," Stoick began. "What you don't know is that it isn't exactly a trading ship."

"What do you mean?"

The big man sighed deeply. "The Wild Men used to raid us every year, back in your grandfather's day. They outnumbered us almost as much as the Berserkers do, and they're even more bloodthirsty. They would land from dozens of big longships, kill anyone who resisted them, carry off and enslave anyone who didn't resist, take everything of value, and burn the rest. We survived only by evacuating the island as soon as we saw them coming.

"Your grandfather got tired of rebuilding the whole village every year; it was hard enough repairing the damage from the dragons, never mind the Wild Men. The next time he saw them coming, he met them at sea and offered them a chest of gold if they'd leave the island alone. They respected his courage in meeting them by himself, and they took his gold and turned around and went home. We thought that was the end of the menace from the North forever. But they came back next year and demanded another chest of gold. We had no choice – we had to either pay them or watch them wreck the island again. So every year, they come back, and every year, the chief meets them at sea, by himself, with a chest of gold."

Hiccup had never heard of this aspect of his tribe's history before. "So their trading ship isn't here to trade? They're just collecting protection money?"

"Trade used to be the last thing on their minds," Stoick said sadly. "But now, if they like our offering, their ship will enter our harbor for some honest trading. They'll make a few deals, buy a keg of our best ale for the ride home, and leave us for another year. But you're right, they're not here to trade. They're here to collect a payoff. And that payoff usually costs us nearly everything we've got. All year long, we have to trade like crazy with the other tribes around us, just to earn enough to appease the Wild Men."

"That's awful, Dad! Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Not as long as they outnumber us so badly. Even your dragons can't help, I'm afraid; there are just too many Wild Men, and if you sank their ships, they'd build more and hit us when we don't expect it. This is one of those parts of being a chief that isn't much fun, Hiccup. But someday it will be your turn to sail out to them with a chest of gold, and hope that they like your courage. It's humiliating, but there's no other way to keep our tribe alive."

"Wow. Well... thanks for telling me about this, Dad. Now I know why you're always touchy about money at this time of year. Do we have enough to pay them this time?"

"Yes, just barely." Stoick stood and pushed on part of the log he was sitting on. The flat top of the log pivoted, revealing a hidden compartment inside. He reached in and pulled out a small chest, not much bigger than his hammy fist. He shook it; it clinked.

"This is the future of the tribe, son. Fifty gold coins, in exchange for another year of our existence. If anything happens to this, we have no backup plan except to run away." He opened the chest and swirled his finger through the tiny coins; some of them were no bigger than his thumbnail.

Hiccup recalled the events that just took place in his room upstairs. "Dad, I can make a suggestion? Maybe you should keep that chest closed."

"Why?" the chief almost laughed. "Are you worried that someone might steal it? From _me?"_

"Not some _one_ , Dad, but some _thing_. We've found some dragons that live in the forest, eat bugs, and steal shiny coins. I don't want them to find that chest and rob us blind."

Stoick bristled. "Then I won't let them! How big are these dragons, and how many of them are there?"

"They're small enough to fit in your hand, and we don't know how many there are. But they're greedy and they're quick. Really quick!"

"How quick?" Stoick demanded.

"Quicker than a Bog-Burglar, according to Fishlegs," Hiccup answered.

"All right, that's quick. I'm impressed," his father nodded. "But there's no reason to think that these dragons will come to this house, looking for our money, is there?"

"Well, uhhh..." Hiccup looked embarrassed. "I just gave one of them a coin from my box upstairs."

Stoick's eyes blazed. "And now these dragons know that there's money in this house that's free for the taking? _WHY_ in Thor's name did you do _that?"_

"Dad, I didn't know about the Wild Men, or the gold, or any of that stuff! You just told me about it now! Like I said, we were just doing an experiment!"

The chief relaxed, very slightly. "Well, is it really a problem? I mean, what are the chances that a flock of these little dragons is going to descend on our house between now and the day that the Wild Men's ship arrives?"

Hiccup looked away, dismayed. "If we trust in _my_ luck, then I'm surprised they haven't descended on our house already." He looked out the window, expecting to see and hear the "flock of these little dragons" homing in on his tribe's only hope for survival so they could steal it. But there was no sign of nano-dragons, just Toothless' toothy head. He'd heard Stoick raising his voice and wanted to know what was going on.

"No problem, bud," Hiccup reassured him. "It's just a family discussion." Toothless looked unconvinced, so Hiccup added, "Want to go flying?" _That_ was a silly question!

As they threaded their way between the clouds, Hiccup leaned forward. "You don't like those nano-dragons, do you, bud? I'm starting to think I know why. They could really make some trouble for us. But, to them, it wouldn't be trouble. They would just be... uhh... collecting cool stuff, the way Fishlegs collected dragon scales when he was a kid, or the way Snotlout collects weapons now. We can't get mad at them for that. But we can't let them get our gold, either. Got any ideas about how we might stop them without hurting them?" Toothless snorted, did a half-roll, and glided upside-down for a few seconds before he plunged into a corkscrew dive toward the ground far below them. He pulled out in plenty of time, but he had a few more crazy stunts to pull before he was satisfied. Then he glided straight and level again.

Hiccup brushed back his severely windblown hair. "I don't think that had anything to do with nano-dragons," he said slowly, "but it sure was fun! Have you got anything else?" That was _another_ silly question! Their flight lasted nearly two hours before Hiccup decided to return to land at last, so he'd be on time for a late supper.

As they approached the house, they saw Stoick running around desperately, shouting and flailing with his hands at a swarm of tiny dragons that were darting in and out of the doorway and the window. Many of them were carrying something yellow and shiny in their mouths.


	4. Chapter 4

**All The Small Things** Chapter 4

Toothless landed quickly, but didn't give Hiccup a chance to dismount. He galloped toward the house, where Stoick was desperately trying to shoo the nano-dragons away, and roared the way he'd roared at Hiccup the first time they met. It seemed to work; at the sound of the Night Fury's voice, the tiny dragons broke off from harassing the chief and took to the skies. One circled back as if to taunt him. Stoick swung at that one back-handed, made contact… and staggered, then fell to his knees. The dragon landed twenty feet away, stunned from the blow. Hiccup finally jumped off Toothless' back and ran to his father.

"Dad! Are you okay?"

"Son," he grunted, "I never thought... I'd ever see the day... when I'd say this, but… help me up." Hiccup had no strength to support any portion of his father's great weight, of course, but he extended his arm, and just the sense of balance that he gave the chief made a difference. Stoick struggled to his feet, shaking his head slowly.

"That is the first time in twenty-three years... that a dragon has put me on the ground," he rumbled. "Why didn't you tell me they could do that?"

"Sorry, Dad," Hiccup answered. "I was thinking about the gold. The shocking part slipped my mind."

"That's not something anyone could easily forget!"

"I guess you're right, Dad, but they've never shocked me, so I haven't learned that lesson the hard way. I know about it because Fishlegs was the first one to get zapped, and he told me all about it."

Stoick brushed the dirt off his hands and knees. "We can sort out those details another day, son. Right now, we have a total disaster on our hands. Those dragons just stole every gold coin in my chest. A year's worth of trading profits… gone. If it was just my money, I'd be angry enough, but that money was worth a year's peace with the Wild Men of the North! What are we going to tell them when they get here, looking for their payment, and all I have is an empty chest? Will they believe me if I tell them the dragons stole it? Will they even care? They'll annihilate us first and ask questions later. Those little dragons have doomed us all." He looked out to sea, fearful that the Wild Men's ship might be approaching as they spoke. All he saw was the familiar sails of Berk's fishing boats, heading out to their night's work.

Then he noticed the nano-dragon he'd knocked down. "Well, at least I can get even with _one_ of those little thieves!" He stomped toward it. Hiccup jumped in front of him and tried to hold him off.

"Dad, no! It's not hurting anybody!"

"Hiccup, are you taking the dragons' side? Those little monsters have brought ruin on your tribe! Whose side are you on?"

"Dad, that dragon doesn't have any of our gold – see? There were more dragons than coins, and that one didn't get anything of ours. He doesn't deserve whatever you're about to give him."

"Maybe not," Stoick snarled, "but it would make _me_ feel a lot better if I could show him who's the boss around here!"

Hiccup turned and scooped up the tiny dragon in his hand. It was regaining consciousness, but it didn't resist him. Stoick stopped in his tracks. Father and son stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

"Dad… you can't hit him when he didn't do anything wrong."

"Son… why didn't he shock you when you picked him up?"

"I don't know," Hiccup responded. "All I know is, they aren't evil. They're just following their instincts to collect shiny things, and it's not fair to punish them for that."

"Hiccup, that 'instinct' may well be the death of everyone on this island!"

"Maybe so, Dad, but killing this dragon isn't going to get our gold back." The dragon cheeped weakly, as though it understood and agreed.

Stoick paused and thought. "All right. You're the dragon expert, Hiccup, and this is a dragon problem. How do _you_ plan to get our gold back?"

"Uhh… uhh… I don't know. Let me think."

Stoick's manner softened slightly. Now he had a plan, even if it wasn't much of a plan. Let his son handle it! When it came to dragons, Hiccup hadn't been wrong ever since he'd befriended that Night Fury. Maybe he could come up with a way out of this crisis.

"Think hard, son. Think _very_ hard. Our lives are depending on it this time. I'm putting you in charge of getting our lost gold back, and keeping our agreement with the Wild Men intact. This will be good training for becoming the chief of the tribe someday… if the tribe lasts that long. Don't let us down."

 **o**

When Hiccup had to come up with a plan, his first move was usually to get his friends together and talk about the problem. They seldom came up with solutions for him. But he couldn't count the number of times one of them had made a chance comment that triggered a thought in his mind, and the thought had inspired a plan, and the plan had led to an action that wound up saving the day. Everyone gave him credit for the plans, but he knew he wouldn't get far without his friends' inspiration.

They met in the training ring, along with their dragons, which made it crowded but cozy. Hiccup explained the problem. Like him, the other teens had no idea that their tribe was making annual pay-offs to appease a much stronger tribe.

"We're giving them all our money so they'll leave us alone?" Snotlout couldn't believe it. "That's not the Viking way! We ought to fight them to the finish! Swords and shields to the bitter end!"

"If we did that, we'd all be dead," Ruffnut retorted.

"Yeah, but we'd be dead heroes! Maybe somebody would write a saga about us."

Astrid shook her head. "I'm not ready to be dead yet, heroically or otherwise! Besides, the Wild Men have a special fate in store for the young women they capture, and I'm even less ready for that. There has to be something else we can try!"

"There's only one thing we can do," Tuffnut decided. "We'll all become Wild Men of the North, and then they won't attack us! I'd make a great Wild Man!" He held up his hands in a bear-claw pose and roared.

"I don't think you want to become a Wild Man, dude," Snotlout said with a firm headshake. "You'd never make it past their initiation rites."

"Whatever it is, I can take it!" Tuff exclaimed. "What do I have to do? Wrestle a polar bear? Drink a keg of ale? Beat a walrus at backgammon?"

"No," Snotlout smirked. "You have to drop your pants, and they brand you with the runes that say, 'Wild Men.' "

"Brand me?" All of Tuffnut's bravado vanished. "As in… hot irons? As in… burning flesh?"

Astrid couldn't help grinning. "As in, 'Ohh, I am hurt! I am very much hurt!' " Ruffnut snorted; Astrid's impression of her brother's favorite expression was pretty good. Astrid went on, "Snotlout is right for a change; you'd never make it through their initiation." Snotlout looked pleased at her semi-compliment.

Tuff tried once more to look fierce. "Well, I could probably take it, but what good is a scar like that if it's in a place where no one can see it?"

"Guys, it doesn't matter," Hiccup said urgently. "They aren't going to let us join them. They want their annual payment, and if we don't give it to them in gold, then they'll take it in plunder and the money they'll get from selling us as slaves. We need to think of a way to either get our gold back, or talk the Wild Men out of being so wild. Fishlegs, are you even paying attention?"

"Sorry, Hiccup. I was just looking at that little dragon in your hand. I still can't get over how cute they are!"

"Oh, yeah, him. I almost forgot about him." Hiccup glanced down at the tiny dragon that was lying contentedly in his palm. He rubbed its back ridge with a fingertip. The dragon purred and arched its back like a cat, clearly enjoying the touch.

"Is he here begging for gold like the other ones?" Astrid wondered.

"No, my father knocked him down while he was looking for gold at my house, and he's still a little bit woozy."

Ruff smirked. "Which one is woozy, the dragon or your father?"

"Both, actually. Fishlegs wasn't kidding when he said these little guys pack a big wallop! I've never seen my father go down from one hit before."

Fishlegs' curiosity was up now. "So how come he isn't shocking _you,_ Hiccup?"

"That's a good question," Astrid nodded. "They shock everyone else who touches them, but not you. Why is that?"

"Maybe it's because he smells like a dragon," Tuff suggested.

"Fishlegs smells like a dragon, and _he_ got the Big Zap," Ruff retorted.

"Maybe his friends told him that you rescued one of them from a spiderweb," Fishlegs thought out loud, "so they think you're a great guy."

"Yeah, right!" Snotlout scoffed. "Do you seriously think those tiny dragons can talk to each other?"

"Yes!" Fishlegs nearly shouted. "Of course they do! It makes perfect sense! That's how the whole flock knew to come here looking for our coins after the first nano-dragon came back to the forest with one. I don't know what kind of language they speak, but they definitely communicate. So it would make sense that they'd spread the good word about Hiccup, the Dragon Savior!"

"Dragon Savior? Oh, please!" Hiccup looked embarrassed.

"It does make sense," Astrid nodded. "They obviously trust you, even the ones who never met you before."

"All I did was be nice to one of them," he protested lamely.

"Be nice to him? Hiccup, you saved his life! Anybody would show a little gratitude after that, even a dragon."

"Especially a dragon," Fishlegs cut in. "They're very rational creatures; they must understand things like being thankful."

"Yeah, I guess that could be true," he admitted, "but it doesn't get us any closer to solving the problem that they caused." He continued stroking the nano-dragon in his hand. "As far as you little guys are concerned, I can do no wrong, huh?" The dragon cheeped… and a smile slowly crossed Hiccup's face.

"I know that look!" Astrid said, and backed off a step. "You just had an idea that will either save the tribe, or destroy us all."

He grinned at her. "Yes, I just had an idea. Yes, it might save the tribe. But the only one it might destroy is me... I think. Do any of you have a big wooden chest that you'd be willing to part with?"

"It's not really a chest," Astrid said, "but my father has some wooden crates with hinged lids. He puts meat in them when he's doing his 'butcher' thing. How many do you want?"

"Just one," Hiccup decided. "I have to make a couple of custom items in the forge, and early tomorrow morning, I'll need Snotlout and Fishlegs for a special job."

"He obviously needs my courage and my awesomeness," Snotlout boasted.

"No, I think he needs my keen mind and my encyclopedic knowledge of dragon lore," Fishlegs countered.

Hiccup smiled and shook his head. "Actually, I need your strong backs to carry Astrid's box. It's going to be heavy, especially once I fill it."

"What are you going to fill it with?" Ruff asked.

"You'll see," he grinned.

Snotlout didn't look so happy. "I _hate_ it when he gets mysterious like that!"

"Look on the bright side," Astrid said cheerfully. "The Wild Men of the North are probably going to hate it even more."


	5. Chapter 5

**All The Small Things** Chapter 5

Snotlout and Fishlegs met Hiccup at the forge the next morning. Astrid's father, Gunnarr, had dropped off the wooden box there the night before, and Hiccup had been up nearly all night, modifying it to play its role in his plan to save his tribe.

The original handles on the sides were mere lengths of rope, knotted in place. He'd replaced them with substantial wrought-iron handles, rounded off so someone could carry the heavy box without hurting his hand, and firmly bolted into the wood. He'd cut an opening in the lid and filled it with an iron grid with half-inch-square openings. The parts that Fishlegs and Snotlout couldn't understand were the shallow metal cups that he'd affixed to the inside walls.

"Those were an afterthought, but they might make the difference between success and failure," Hiccup half-explained. "They'll do the job if Ruff or Tuff comes through with… oh, here comes Ruffnut now!"

Ruff shuffled toward them, carrying a small jar full of something dark. "Here's what you asked for, Hiccup," she rasped in her not-awake-yet voice. "Mom says she has no idea what you need it for, but if it'll help save the village, she'll give you a jar."

"Excellent," Hiccup smiled as he took the jar from her. "Tell your mother, 'Thank you.' Guys, take the box and follow me. We have to take it pretty deep into the forest." They followed him wordlessly as he led them to the thicket where he and Astrid had discovered the nano-dragons.

"You didn't mention thorns!" Snotlout protested.

"Sorry," Hiccup said, not sounding very sorry. "I'd pay you for going through the thorns, but the nano-dragons took my extra money. Set the box down right about there," he said as he pointed. "Great; thanks, guys. Now you need to get at least a hundred yards away so you don't scare the nano-dragons. But you have to be close enough to hear me if I call you."

"Why would you call us?" Fishlegs asked.

"He'd call me 'awesome,' " Snotlout replied, "and he'd probably call you 'doofus.' "

"I distinctly asked him _why_ he'd call us, not _what_ he'd call us," Fishlegs retorted.

"I'll call you so you can bring the box back to Berk once it's full," Hiccup said, as though it was obvious. "Also, if Astrid comes and tells us that the Wild Men's ship is in sight, we'll have to move fast. So keep your distance, but be ready."

"This sounds like the start of a really boring day," Snotlout grumbled. He sat on a fallen tree and slowly nodded off. Fishlegs was visually searching the nearby trees for signs of nano-dragons. The nano-dragons did not oblige him.

Inside the thicket, Hiccup pulled out the jar and poured some of its contents into the metal cups inside the box. "Mrs. Thorston always makes the best honey in the village," he said to the dragons that he hoped were listening. "I hope you guys appreciate quality." He waited until a few flies had come, attracted by the smell of the honey, and gotten stuck in it. Then he reached out with one open hand.

"Hey, little dragons!" he called. "It's me, Hiccup, your friend. I'd like to meet some of you." Nothing happened. The idea that he might be wasting his time occurred to him for the first time.

After about ten minutes, the leaves above him rustled and one nano-dragon drifted down to land in the palm of his hand. It clutched a small golden coin in its mouth. Hiccup didn't even try to take it away. He just stroked its back ridge and listened to it purr.

When the dragon was good and relaxed, he slowly put it on the bottom of the wooden box. It made as if to fly out again, but then caught sight of the flies struggling in the honey. It quickly made a meal of them. Then it paused to preen itself and get the sticky honey off its paws. In the meantime, Hiccup had attracted another nano-dragon. He soothed this one and put it right next to the first one. There were no flies for the second one to eat, but one of its kind was there and making no attempt to flee, so the second one stayed there, too. By the time Hiccup had brought a third one in, another fly had blundered into the honey.

It took him about three hours to bring 49 nano-dragons into the wooden box. Nothing he could say or do would bring any more of them out of the trees. That was when he heard Astrid approaching. "Hiccup? Where are you?"

"Here, in the thicket," he called back.

"Your father says the You-know-who's are on the horizon! They'll be here in a few hours!"

"Okay, give me a couple more minutes," he sighed. "We're one coin short, and one dragon short. Time for Plan B. You little dragons are going to ruin this island's economy!" He reached into a pocket and pulled out his last gold coin. He held it aloft and waited for about a minute and a half. Then a nano-dragon swooped down from the branches overhead, landed in his hand, and claimed the coin as its own. It took him longer to soothe this one, but eventually, he coaxed it into joining its fellows in the box. Occasional flies and other insects kept them happy, as did the sound of his voice.

"Okay, little guys. Now we'll all go on an adventure together!" He slowly swung the lid shut. He heard some scrabbling and cheeping noises, so he bent right down to the metal grate in the lid. "Take it easy, guys! I'm not going to hurt you. This might even be fun." The sound of his voice calmed the captive dragons down; it seemed that they really did trust him implicitly.

"Okay, Snotlout, Fishlegs! Come get the box! It's 'go' time!" They made their way through the thick undergrowth and picked up the wooden box. "We'll bring it back to Berk and deliver it to the docks," he instructed them. "Walk fast, but go gently, and _do not drop it!"_ They carefully followed his instructions, mostly because they didn't want to dump a box full of electric-shocking nano-dragons all over themselves.

Stoick was waiting at the docks, along with the other teens and Toothless. "Did you get the gold away from the dragons?" Stoick asked anxiously.

"Uhh, yes and no," Hiccup stammered. "Yes, I got the gold, and no, I didn't get it away from the dragons. But trust me, it's going to work out okay."

"Hiccup…" Stoick was about to lose his composure. "How am I supposed to explain this to the Wild Men? I don't understand it myself! They don't like trickery and they have no patience with other tribes."

"You aren't going to explain anything to them, Dad. You put me in charge of this project, and I'm going to finish it. I'll present the gift to them and I'll do the explaining. Umm… what do I do?"

 _"You_ stay on shore while _I_ give them the gold!" Stoick nearly shouted. "You've never done this before! Son, you're no match for those Vikings. They'll kill you if they think you're playing any kind of a trick. I won't let you take that risk."

"Dad, I'm the only one who can do it now," Hiccup answered with a bit more heat than usual. "You just admitted that you don't understand these little dragons or what they're doing. I do. Besides, the Wild Men are used to you doing things a certain way. If you shake things up, they won't take it well. But they've never met me before, so they won't know what to expect. We're definitely shaking things up this time; you can't get away with that, but maybe I can. Now, how do I do this?"

Stoick weighed the issues in his mind for a few seconds. "You and the gold ride in that dinghy. Our longship will pull you out to sea until we're near the Wild Men's ship. Then you'll drop the tow line, row over to them, look brave, present the gift, and hope they accept it. None of us is allowed to bring a weapon. Hiccup, I'm very nervous about this. You've never dealt with people like these before. They call themselves Wild Men for a reason!"

"I think I'll be okay, Dad. I've handled Dagur the Deranged twice, so I think I can deal with these Wild Men. Like you said – it'll be good training. But take Toothless on the ship with you, just in case anything goes wrong. He can help protect me, and he doesn't count as a weapon, right?"

Stoick nodded. "Now _there's_ a part of your plan that I agree with!" Getting Toothless onto the ship wasn't easy. The last time he'd ridden on a longship with Stoick the Vast, he'd been chained up and muzzled, and Stoick had called him "devil." Times had changed, but dragons have long memories. Hiccup had to coax him onto the ship himself, then repeatedly order him to "Stay! Stay, Toothless!" while he got back into the dinghy.

The ride out to meet the Wild Men's ship was miserable. The dinghy rolled and pitched, the waves slopped over the gunwales, and Hiccup had to bail out water continuously. The dragons in the box didn't seem to mind, which was fortunate. If they began peeping in distress, the sound of his voice quickly settled them down. The other tribe's longship slowly loomed up larger as they approached it. It was designed much like Berk's longships, but it was considerably bigger, the wood was darker, and the dragon figurehead looked angrier. The men staring over the gunwales at him looked angry, too. He reminded himself that they were looking for an excuse to go to war against his people, and it was his responsibility to talk them out of it. The gold was supposed to help. Well, they'd never been talked out of war in the way _he_ was about to use.

His father's men lowered the ship's sail when they were about 200 feet from the Wild Men. "This is as close as we get, Hiccup," his father called through cupped hands. "The rest is up to you. Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, Dad," he called.

"Really sure?"

"Yes, Dad. I'm really sure." He untied the rope that connected his dinghy to the longship, unshipped his oars, and began rowing toward the hostile ship. Arm muscles were not his strong point; it took him about fifteen minutes to cover the two hundred feet. He stopped when a rough voice shouted, "That's close enough, Berk!"

He looked up. Glaring down at him was a face that was completely wrapped in thick gray hair and a beard. To live past 50 was unusual for Vikings; to still be strong enough to lead a warlike tribe at that age meant that this man was extraordinary. Standing next to him, almost unnoticed by comparison, was an extremely short man with a swarthy complexion and curly black hair. He looked out of place among the fair-skinned, fair-haired Vikings. The other Wild Men gave them a respectful amount of space.

"You're not Chief Stoick," the man began without preamble. "Who are you?"

"I am Hiccup, firstborn son of Chief Stoick and the future chief of Berk," Hiccup answered respectfully.

"Hiccup!" the short man scoffed. "That's a good name for him! There's barely enough of him to make a toothpick for a dragon!" The other men laughed.

"That's enough, Tryon!" the leader snapped. He turned back to Hiccup. "I am Chief Gandolt the Gray of the Wild Men of the North. Why are you here?"

"I am here to renew our traditional friendship and offer you a gift," Hiccup said mildly. He gestured at the box.

"Treachery, sir!" Tryon whispered.

The chief nodded. "It doesn't take a box that big to hold fifty gold coins, Hiccup son of Stoick, and the last time I looked, coins didn't need air holes to breathe. What kind of trick is this?"

"Don't let him play games with us!" someone on the ship muttered. Someone else added, "Kill him now, and teach them all a lesson."

"We had to make some alternate arrangements to keep the gold safe until you got here," Hiccup answered carefully.

"Well, you're not bringing your 'alternate arrangements' onto _my_ ship!" Gandolt retorted. "Whatever trick you're trying to pull, it's not going to get within ten feet of me!"

"That's fine," Hiccup nodded. "Feel free to send a man or two down into my boat, and they can look in the box and tell you that your gold is in there."

The chief had a quick, quiet discussion with his aide. "Tryon will examine this box of yours," he announced. "I should warn you, he's very good with a dagger, so if he doesn't like what he sees, you'd better jump overboard and swim fast. And if anything happens to Tryon, my spear-throwers will make short work of you."

"I'm not going to try anything, so that's fine." Hiccup brought the dinghy alongside the longship, and the dark-haired man climbed down into it. The man wasn't just short; he was a dwarf. For such a man to rise to a place of leadership among the Wild Men, he must be another extraordinary man. Hiccup realized that these Vikings had sent their best leaders to deal with Berk, which meant that the warriors on board would also be their best. He would have to play this game very, _very_ carefully.

Tryon reached out and gave the box a shove. Peeping sounds came out. "What's in there?" he demanded.

"Dragons," Hiccup answered.

The man considered the size of the box. "Dragons?" he asked indulgently. "Really?"

"Very small dragons," Hiccup clarified.

"They'd have to be the smallest dragons in the world," Tryon said dismissively. He reached to open the lid.

"Don't do that!" Hiccup exclaimed. "You just stirred them up, and if you open the box, they'll fly away and take the gold with them. Let me settle them down first, and then you can open the box." Tryon stood impatiently, rolling his eyes as Hiccup said peaceful things to the alleged dragons in the box, then gestured to him. "Go ahead; open it. Slowly."

Tryon drew a dagger, then eased the lid open with his free hand. He looked inside.

"Well?" came Gandolt's voice from above them.

"There's gold in there," Tryon called up to him. "But every coin is in the mouth of the tiniest dragons you ever saw. If they weren't holding onto our peace money, I'd even say they were cute."

"What's the meaning of this, Berk?" the chief demanded.

"The dragons are protecting our gold so no one can steal it," Hiccup explained. "But they've gotten attached to it, and we haven't figured out a way to make them let go of it. So we brought them and the gold together."

"You Berks aren't very bright," Gandolt said archly. "Tryon, separate one of those dragons from its gold."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Hiccup said quickly. But Tryon had plunged his dagger into the box. They heard it strike the wood at the bottom. Then Tryon half-cried out and fell sideways, clutching his empty hand. If Hiccup hadn't caught him, he would have fallen overboard. Hiccup quickly shut the box lid with his free hand.

"I told you not to do that," he said to the short man, who quivered and offered no reply.

"What did those dragons do to my advisor?" the Wild Men's chief demanded.

"If you bother them, they hit you with a shock that feels like you've been struck by lightning," Hiccup called up to him. "They haven't done it to me, but I _have_ been struck by lightning, so I know what I'm talking about."

"Is that... how you lost your leg?" Tryon asked him with something close to respect.

"No, I lost that in a dragon fight," Hiccup answered easily. "The dragon lost that battle, but I didn't walk away unscathed. Actually, I didn't walk away at all."

Tryon nodded. "Dragon fights... lightning strikes... you're quite a survivor."

"I owe it all to clean living, I guess," Hiccup shrugged.

"So these little dragons have to touch you to hurt you?" the chief concluded. Hiccup nodded.

"Tryon! Is all the gold in the chest?"

"It... looks that way," Tryon managed to say. "I can't count them because they're moving, but it looks like about fifty."

The chief looked thoughtful. "Hiccup son of Stoick, do you give your word as a chief's son that there are fifty gold coins in that chest?"

"I give my word as a chief's son, I personally counted fifty gold coins in that chest," Hiccup responded, puffing his chest out a little (which wasn't much).

"Then we will accept your gift, and then we'll count it on the decks of my ship, just to make sure," Gandolt decided. "If it turns out that you have deceived us... you won't like what comes next. This entire deal is totally out of the ordinary, and I'm taking nothing at face value, not even the oath of a chief's son. Tryon, Hiccup, pass the box up to me."

Tryon was still shaky from his contact with the nano-dragon, and Hiccup never had much strength to begin with. They both struggled to lift their ends of the box, which rocked back and forth as they raised it over their heads. The chief and another man took it impatiently, hauled it over the gunwale,and set it down on the deck... none too gently. Hiccup heard the fluttering wings and alarmed chirps from inside, and said nothing. One of the nano-dragons applied its shock to a bolt that held a handle on the box; the man who was holding that handle fell away with a cry. Unwilling to wait, the chief flipped the lid open to see his treasure, and the nano-dragons, no longer soothed by Hiccup's voice or presence, instantly took wing and made a beeline for their forest thicket. They formed a brown-green cloud, sparkling with gold, as they flew away across the water...

...which was exactly what Hiccup had hoped would happen.

But he hadn't reckoned on how these wild Vikings would react.

The Wild Men watched the nano-dragons escape and fingered their weapons. "Well, that's it, then," the chief decided with a slightly vicious tone. "We got no gold, so you get no peace. We're now at war, Hiccup son of Stoick. It looks like you're going to be the first casualty. Got any stirring final words before Tryon cuts your throat?"


	6. Chapter 6

**All The Small Things** Chapter 6

"We're now at war, Hiccup son of Stoick. It looks like you're going to be the first casualty. Got any stirring final words before Tryon cuts your throat?"

The Wild Men of the North had journeyed over a hundred miles to Berk to collect their annual protection money. Now their money had flown away, carried off by dozens of tiny dragons. "We got no payment, so you get no peace," the chief had said. Berk would be flattened by their first attack, with all the people either killed or sold into slavery, everything of value pillaged, and everything else burned. They wouldn't need a second attack. As for Hiccup, he was unarmed and trapped in a rowboat with the Wild Men chief's advisor, who was known to be good with a knife.

Hiccup knew he had to talk fast.

"Now hold on a minute, sir," he protested. "We paid you in good faith. The gold payment got away _after_ you took possession of it. You said you accepted it, so it was legally yours, and its loss is your fault, not ours. It's the same as if you'd dropped the box overboard."

"Technically, he's right," Tryon added.

"I've already made up my mind! Don't confuse me with the facts!" Chief Gandolt roared. "We didn't get our gold, so we'll take it out of your hides! There's nothing you can do to stop us!"

"Maybe we can't stop you," Hiccup admitted. "But what's going to happen when all the other tribes learn that you don't keep your legal agreements? You can kiss all your trade deals goodbye; no one will trust you enough to do business with you. You'll never collect your debts, you'll never receive the goods you paid for, and your trading ships will be impounded as soon as they dock anywhere other than your own ports. You can kiss all your peace treaties goodbye, too. A lot of tribes will decide that you're probably going to break your treaty with them next, so maybe they should strike the first blow. You're big and you're tough, but are you big enough and tough enough to fight the entire Archipelago?"

Tryon added, "Technically, he's –"

"Yes, I know, technically, he's right," the chief sighed. "Tryon, I didn't hire you to give me nothing but bad news! Tell me something good."

The dwarf climbed laboriously back into his ship. "Well, sir, we never got to count the gold before the little dragons flew away with it, so it's possible that Berk short-changed us. If that was the case, then you'd be justified in holding the chief's son for ransom to make sure we got the entire amount that's due us... or maybe a little bit more."

"Now _that's_ the kind of advice I like to hear!" Gandolt exclaimed gleefully. He grabbed a spear and pointed it at his frail-looking adversary. "Hiccup son of Stoick, you're about to become our guest for a while, whether you like it or not. Will you climb on board peacefully, or will we have to –"

His speech was cut off when a purple bolt of light struck his spear handle and blew it in half. The shock of the impact nearly knocked the chief over the side, and his leather gauntlets were blackened from the blast. He quickly took the gauntlets off and flexed his fingers to make sure they were all still there.

"What was _that?"_ Tryon gasped. Aside from the chief, he was the only Wild Man still standing; the other men in the ship had thrown themselves flat on the floorboards.

Hiccup smiled calmly. "Oh, that was Toothless. He protects me."

Gandolt glanced at the smoldering remains of his spear, then at the thin, one-legged boy who was defying the might of the entire Wild Men tribe. "And what is a Toothless?"

"See that big black head glaring at you from my father's ship over there?" Hiccup pointed. "That's Toothless. He's a Night Fury. He –"

"A NIGHT FURY?!" The chief dropped all pretense of self-control.

"He doesn't like it when people point weapons at me," Hiccup finished with a hint of a smile. "You probably shouldn't do it again."

Gandolt didn't smile back. "So your pet dragon protects you, does he? But can he protect you against forty spear throwers at once? You're two hundred feet away from safety, and about four feet away from a quick death. Would you like to place a wager on how long you'll live? It won't change anything, but when there's no question who's going to win a fight, a good bet can make it more interesting."

"Sir, before you do anything you can't undo, may I have a quick word with you?" the dwarf suggested urgently. "It's extremely important." They stepped to the other side of the ship so Hiccup couldn't hear them.

"I've figured out what's happening here," Tryon went on quietly. "This boy is some kind of _seidr_ -user, a magician. He controlled those tiny dragons with nothing but the sound of his voice, and he's tamed the wildest dragon in existence and bent it to his will. Anyone who can control a Night Fury is someone we do _not_ want as an enemy! He started off by acting helpless, but he's revealing his power, a little bit at a time. I can't even guess how dangerous he might be if we provoke him any further."

"So, even though he's in our power, you think we should leave him alone?" the chief asked him.

"I think we should leave the whole _tribe_ alone!" Tryon burst out. "It was only a matter of time before Berk found a way to gain an advantage over us so they could stop the annual pay-offs. I figured they'd make an alliance with some other powerful tribe like the Berserkers. I never counted on them stooping so low as to use magic! That's barely tolerable when a woman does it, but a man...? It's just not right! It's unmanly! Yet we can see the proof right in front of us. They're defending themselves with magic by controlling the dragons, and we can't fight against that. We need to get away from this island and not come back until we find a way to counter this boy's powers. That may never happen."

"Can't our witches fight this boy?" Gandolt demanded.

"Can our witches control a Night Fury?" Tryon countered. "They can't even bring one down! If this boy can control dragons, then what's stopping him from summoning a whole flock of them to descend on our towns in the middle of the night? That Night Fury didn't have to shoot your spear handle; he could have killed you, or he could sink our ship with one shot if he wanted to! They never miss, you know."

"Yes, everyone knows that," Gandolt cut in.

"Then you know that we're still afloat only because the boy doesn't want the Night Fury to sink us... yet. Can you swim home from here? I can't. Sir, I know you're used to getting your own way, but this time, we're in over our heads. We need to get out while we still can."

After a long, long pause, Chief Gandolt turned back and leaned over the gunwale to face Hiccup. His face betrayed no emotion at all. "Son of Stoick, tell your father that we accept your payment of gold in exchange for friendship on an eternal basis. We wish him good health and a heroic death... and the same for you. As for us, we're going to skip the 'trading' part of our visit. It is time for us to go home now." Without another word to Hiccup, he turned to his men and snapped out the orders that raised the sail, turned them around, and sent them scudding before the wind back toward their distant home.

Hiccup let out a huge sigh of relief.

He rowed back to his father's ship, even more slowly than he'd rowed away because his arms were tired. "What happened over there?" were his father's first words. "I recognized Chief Gandolt and his advisor, I saw the little dragons take off, I saw Toothless shoot somebody, and now you're back intact and they're leaving. What have you done?"

"They accepted our payment," Hiccup answered, "and I don't think they're coming back. Ever. I think the dragons spooked them." He rubbed Toothless' head. "Nice shooting, bud. Nice timing, too." Toothless burbled happily at him.

"You actually pulled that off?" Stoick was amazed. Any solution that didn't involve brute force tended to mystify him.

"You put me in charge, Dad. I didn't want to disappoint you." Stoick could only nod. The ride home was uneventful.

Stoick called for no celebration for the end of their oppression by the Wild Men, because no one in the tribe except him (and Hiccup and his friends) even knew about it. He and Hiccup celebrated privately that night with an unusually fancy supper, prepared by Edda Hofferson at Stoick's request. "Son, you never cease to amaze me," he said.

Hiccup just said, "Mm-hmm." It was his good luck that his mouth was full so he didn't have to answer any more than that. Any answer he could offer would have given most of the credit to the dragons, not to himself, and he knew his father wasn't fond of those answers, even though he was slowly adjusting to the idea of dragons in his village.

Stoick went on, "Do you think there's any chance of us getting our gold back?"

"Just about no chance, Dad. Those nano-dragons love their shiny things, they're too hard to find in the forest, they're too small and quick for us to catch, and they can shock the daylights out of us if we touch them. Even if we set traps and caught them, the only way we'd get the coins would be to kill the dragons."

"And you're against that?" Stoick said, already knowing the answer.

"Dad, you once said to me, 'Hiccup, you are many things, but a dragon killer is not one of them.' You were right. We just have to accept the fact that our gold is gone forever."

Stoick shook his head. "Well, this was an expensive lesson to learn, but if the Wild Men are really done with us, I think it's worth it."

The next day, Hiccup went alone to the thicket. He held his right hand up and called, and after a few minutes, one of the nano-dragons spiraled down and landed in his palm, still holding tightly onto its gold coin. He stroked it for a few seconds, then sat down and used his left hand to sketch the dragon from various angles. "Fishlegs will appreciate this," he told the dragon, which squeaked at him, then flew back into its home in the leaves.

Fishlegs was, indeed, happy with the drawings. "These are perfect, Hiccup! Thanks! Now I can add a section to the Book of Dragons with something that Bork the Bold never knew about, even though they were living right here on his home island. But I was thinking..."

"Go on," Hiccup encouraged him. "Thinking is good."

"Well, we've kind of changed the way those nano-dragons live," Fishlegs said. "They all have coins now, and that will make them happy. But... what happens when their eggs hatch? Will the babies want our money, too?"

"They probably will," Hiccup thought out loud, "and their parents know where we live. I think I'll have to make some polished bronze discs that look like coins, and we'll leave them out for the nano-dragons to take. Even if they get picky and hold out for real precious metal, that won't be such a problem because we're not paying off the Wild Men every year anymore. Berk will be keeping more of its money than we used to, and we'll be better off because of that."

Fishlegs considered that. "So, even though the nano-dragons stole all our gold, we're going to be richer than we used to be, because of them? That's totally ironic, Hiccup."

"It sure is," Hiccup nodded. "Irony is good, too, especially if it gives us a happy ending." Then he yawned hugely. The previous day had been long, eventful, and very stressful. He ate an early supper, took a quick evening flight with Toothless, and they went to bed early – Hiccup in his bed and Toothless on his sleeping stone.

As he was drifting off to sleep, he heard a soft fluttering sound. A tiny leaf-dragon had just flown through the open window and landed on his pillow. It held his silver coin in its mouth, which meant it was the one he had rescued from the spider's web. It set the coin down, planted a tiny paw on it when it began to slide off the pillow, and trilled softly at him. Toothless opened one eye, glanced at the little green-and-brown dragon on Hiccup's pillow, and went back to sleep. Evidently, he no longer considered the nano-dragons a threat.

"I've got no gold left to give, little fellow," Hiccup said sleepily. "I hope you can be happy with silver… or with plain old me."

The tiny dragon curled up on the pillow next to him, and both of them were soon fast asleep.

 _The End_

 **o**

 _A/N_  
 _This story was born from multiple points of inspiration. The first one was a comment in my story "The Dragons' Convention," in which a dragon from another fandom wondered why Berk's dragons didn't covet gold and jewelry like other dragons did. Then someone (I can't remember who) posted somewhere (I can't remember where) about a challenge to write about a small dragon defending its hoard, which consisted of one gold coin. Then I found the picture of the leaf dragons on deviantart dot com (the link is at the bottom of Chapter 1), which really jump-started my plans for this story. And finally, there was Cressida Cowell's HTTYD story "How to Speak Dragonese," in which she invented the idea of nano-dragons, one of which (the Electricsquirm) could give a nasty electric shock. I merged all those ideas together, mixed them around in my peculiar brain, and this story came out._

 _I was originally going to call this story "The Power of Gold," because of the nano-dragons' electric power and the importance of the gold. But the "power" part wasn't a vital part of the story, so I changed it to "All the Small Things" (which is the name of a_ _song by_ _Blink-182) because both the gold coins and the nano-dragons are small, along with Hiccup himself (relatively speaking)._


End file.
